Soul on Ice
by LeoGryffin
Summary: The sequel to Soul Driver. After finding love together, Hermione mysteriously leaves Severus for someone else. Can her friends solve the dilemma before both lovers pay the ultimate price? COMPLETE


_Soul on Ice (the sequel to Soul Driver)_

_Author's Note: WARNING! DO NOT READ THIS until you've read the first in the series, Soul Driver. It won't make a lick of sense. Follow my author link above to find it._

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize here belongs to J K Rowling. I'm just playing out plot bunnies with her characters. If you haven't read OotP, you should probably wait on this, though it has very little spoilage. _

_Soul on Ice is the title of a book written in the 1968, about the racial struggles in the U.S., by Eldridge Cleaver_.

_If you enjoy this story or have constructive comments, kindly review. Thanks!_

*~*~*

**"The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less." Eldridge Cleaver, Soul on Ice, 1968**

*~*~*

Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy sat at a table in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. It was almost like old times, though there was a missing person, and in his place another whom Hermione and Harry certainly would never have dreamed they'd be having drinks with only a year before.

"To Ron," Harry toasted. They raised their glasses of butterbeer and drank deeply, remembering their fallen comrade.

"To Albus Dumbledore," Draco said, "if my father heard me say that he'd kill me..." Another swig for each.

"To Harry Potter," Hermione said loudly so that the whole tavern could hear, "vaniquisher of He-Who-Will-Never-Rise-Again!"

Harry blushed, as toasts were made all over the pub. Soon after, drinks began arriving at their table, compliments of various other wizards and witches.

"You and your usual way of getting free drinks," Harry laughed, "you're insufferable, Hermione."

"Works, doesn't it?" She managed a grin, but a careful observer would have seen the sorrow in her eyes. 

"How are things going with Snape?" Draco said. "You haven't said a thing about him. It's been two months since we defeated Voldemort and sent his followers off to Azkaban in glorious style, and I haven't seen you two together or anything. What gives?"

"Let me cover my ears," Harry joked, but dropped his teasing manner when he looked into his friend's eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it, you two. I just don't." She looked as though she might cry. "I screwed it all up, okay? The best thing that ever could have happened to me, and I couldn't handle it. Let's not go there."

"Wait, wait, wait," Draco said, "I won't let this drop. I owe you everything, Hermione, and I want to know how I can help."

"Don't be so goddamned nosy, you git," she snapped. "There's nothing to do. I'm an arse. End of story." She suddenly rose from the table and rushed out. Draco rose to follow her, but Harry stopped him. "Let her go. I know her pretty well, and I know when we have to let her work things out on her own. She knows we're here for her."

"Bollocks," Draco said, "I'm going to see him and find out what the hell happened. Four months ago we served them breakfast in bed together as a surprise, remember? She never came back that night, Dumbledore showed up to talk and told us she was in the dungeons, so we surprised them with lemon crepes and tea and there they were, all tangled up in one another."

"Don't make me retch. I can't get used to the thought of that greasy git shagging my best friend."

"Perhaps not, but you saw how happy she was then. Now she looks fucking miserable and you may be too queer to notice, but I'm not beyond looking at the girl and seeing she's not taking care of herself. I'm going to get to the bottom of this fiasco."

Harry tried to stop him. "Haven't you done enough to her? You're not her pimp anymore, Draco. Let her work it out on her own."

Draco got in his face, eyes blazing. "Don't you dare, EVER, compare this to what we had to do to save your sorry ass, Potter. Unlike you, apparently, I care about what happens to these people. Get out of my way." Draco stormed off, leaving Harry to stare moodily at his butterbeer, wondering if his take on Hermione had been wrong after all. He still tended to see her through the lens of Hermione at fourteen, rather than the adult woman who had been through an enormous amount of personally degrading hell to help save the world. Suddenly Harry stood, running after his lover. "Wait, Draco...you're right...I'm coming..."

*~*~*

If it were possible, the hallway leading to Snape's quarters was darker and more forbidding than it had been during Draco's student days. Possibly it reflected the mood of the one who lived at the end, he thought. Harry trailed along, feeling less and less sure that disturbing Professor Snape was the right thing to do. For all he knew, the man would still dock Gryffindor 50 points even though Harry had not been a student for two years.

Draco knocked on the door, more confidently than he actually felt. Snape opened the door, and turned away, allowing them in. He motioned wordlessly to his sitting room, and the two young men sat down across from him. "Tea?" Snape asked. "Butterbeer? Wine? I'm sorry there's no fire, I've been feeling a bit feverish lately."

"We're not here to bother you for hospitality, Professor," Draco said formally. "It's Hermione."

"I wasn't aware that Miss Granger was a concern of mine anymore," Snape said stiffly.

"We weren't aware that she had fallen from grace until today," Harry said, his back rising in protest as it had during student days. "I can't stand you, Snape, but my friend is clearly in love with you and something has happened. She won't discuss it, and..." he trailed off.

"This isn't your business, Potter." Snape snapped, sweat pouring off his brow.

"It is my business, Severus," Draco said stonily. "I owe you both a great deal, and I won't sit by and see two people who are so obviously destined to be together be miserable."

"I'm afraid you're too late, Malfoy," Snape said. "I can't discuss this. You'll have to talk to her. Good day, gentlemen."

Try as they might, Snape wouldn't budge, and he finally threw them out.

*~*~*

It was time to call in the Royal Army, or in this case, counselor-in-training Ginny Weasley, who had plied them with cheap wine as they sat around discussing the situation at the Three Broomsticks. "Ginny," Harry was saying, "we think that she won't talk to us because, well, we're guys."

"In a manner of speaking," Ginny said breathlessly, causing them to erupt in giggles. "Right manly men, you are, you flaming nutters." Ginny was attending a Muggle university now, studying psychology. At this point, they figured she was their best shot.

"I'm hurt," Draco smirked. They had explained the entire situation to her, including the seven months in hell that Hermione had spent and how Snape had saved her. Ginny was under the impression that it was too romantic to let go, which made her an excellent ally in the cause.

"I'll do it. I think I know what's going on. I'll get back to you."

Ginny walked down the street from the Three Broomsticks to the flat over her brothers' shop, and knocked on Hermione's door. "I'm sorry to barge in unannounced, but..."

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione hugged her old friend, "I'm so so sorry about Ron. I..."

"I'm not here about Ron, though I cannot thank you enough for bringing him back to my parents after he died. I wish I could have killed Percy myself. But I'm here to talk to you about...you, Hermione."

"Ah. I see the arseholes got to you, too. There's nothing to talk about." Hermione turned away, but not before Ginny saw the torment in her eyes.

"Have you seen anyone about this?" Ginny said gently.

"This...what this? What are you talking about?" Hermione's voice was shaky as she sat down without offering her friend tea. Ginny busied herself making the tea, noting grimly that there was nearly no food in the dirty apartment, and brought Hermione a steaming cup. She put her hand on Hermione's arm, and noticed her flinch at the touch.

"I'd diagnose post-traumatic stress syndrome professionally just upon looking at you and knowing the situation, but I'm only two semesters into study so I won't pretend. I'm just here to listen. I won't push."

Hermione shuddered, bowing her head into her hands. "It's so much worse than that. I can't tell you, or anyone. Least of all Severus. I can never see him again, do you hear? Make the boys stop this quest. He's too good a man for me - I never should have pretended I deserved him - he should simply be left alone." She began to cry, sobs wracking her frame that seemed far too slight. Ginny noticed that Hermione looked as if she hadn't eaten or slept for days.

"What in the hell is going on, Hermione? What can I do?"

Hermione turned to face her. "Thank you. No one can help me. Just tell those losers to leave me alone about this, all right? I know what I'm doing." Suddenly, a silver owl swooped through the window and perched on Hermione's shoulder. She relieved the owl of his message, and Ginny watched her face as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment and then opened with a resolute slowness. "You'll have to excuse me," she said, standing up.

"What is it, Hermione? What is it?"

"It's none of your damn business! Why can't everyone just leave me the hell alone?" Hermione stormed out of the room, slamming her bedroom door. Ginny heard the sounds of more crying behind the door. Unsure what to do, she wrote a quick note and tied it to Hermione's owl. "Go to Professor Snape, and bring the answer to me at the Burrow. Hurry, little friend."

*~*~*

For a brief, shining moment, Hermione's life had been blindingly happy. She should have known that it was too good to be true - getting Harry back, being present at the end of Voldemort's reign, finding a powerful love beyond imagining in the arms of someone incredibly unexpected. Most importantly, she had found out the answer to the question about whether she'd ever be able to make love to someone - completely, honestly, openly. It was unreal to discover herself in another person, especially after she had come to the brink of losing her soul completely.

Why had everyone, including she, believed they could put the past behind them and move forward into that happily ever after? Didn't that seem awfully simplistic? She should have known, when Lucius Malfoy could not be found, that there would be trouble. The Minister of Magic had made a huge spectacle of wanting him dead or alive, making him public enemy number one, claiming intelligence that said he was in that bunker or this cave. But as soon as the furor had died down, and everyone was concentrating on the fact that most of the Death Eaters had been captured or killed, Fudge suddenly stopped talking about Malfoy. Most of those in the know understood that the Minister was simply covering his own slippery tracks- he had been many times over the beneficiary of Malfoy money and clout in his own rise to power. The less people understood about the ties between the Ministry and the Malfoy family fortune, the better. The public were easily led away from the Malfoy story by that usual tool of the Ministry, the Daily Prophet, and people soon forgot about the hunt - except those whose daily lives were directly impacted by him. At the moment, only a handful of people could say that, and fortunately for Fudge, they weren't talking.

Unfortunately, the one person who could now say unequivocally that she was impacted by the inability of the Ministry to capture Lucius was Hermione Granger. As she dressed carefully in her black robes and piled her hair on her head, charming it to look sleek and sophisticated, she could not hold back a fresh round of tears. "This sentimentality will not do at all," she said to her cat Crookshanks, who looked disdainfully on the entire affair. She blinked her eyes, and her face began to change into a breathtakingly beautiful ice princess - not all that different than Hermione Granger, but colder and more lovely. Only the few who knew her well would see the differences, but to her eyes it was blindingly apparent the depths of hell her world had become. A familiar, if unwelcome, coldness crept over her heart as she prepared for her evening at the little-known summer home of the Malfoy family, located in a nondescript area of Belgium, well-protected and Unplottable.

She looked at her watch. Still early. She sat down on her sofa, and without thinking, picked up the photo of herself and Severus on holiday in New York City taken shortly after their affair began. She was waving, and looked up at him happily from time to time and pulled him closer for a kiss on the cheek. He looked young, carefree, and amazed...truly, nothing like the professor she had known years before. They looked warm, happy, and...idiotic. This whole thing was not worth contemplating, she reminded herself sternly. But even as she steeled her mind against thoughts of him, a small part of her wondered if she would ever feel warm again. It was if the soul that he had gone so far to rescue, to keep safe, was now on ice.

Despite herself, her mind drifted back to the night Severus confessed to her that he had taken her soul for safekeeping. She had believed for a moment that he had only been protecting Order assets, but he quickly and thoroughly showed her that he actually cared for her - the woman, not the Metamorphmagus. Slowly, hesitantly, then quite passionately, they had made love to one another as if it was the first time for both of them. Later, entwined in each other's arms, they dissected their feelings and determined that in a way, it was the first time. Neither had ever been intimate with someone for the right reasons; there was always an ulterior motive. They could not find that motive with each other. When the lovable idiots, Harry and Draco, had burst in on them the next morning with breakfast, she had laughed - genuinely, without artifice - and felt that all was right with the world.

For a few glorious weeks, it was. The nights were passionate; the days were spent implementing the plans to overthrow Voldemort, and then celebrating his end. It was not until she began to notice the absence of an organized search for Lucius Malfoy that the niggling shadow of doubts began to creep into her mind. As the days passed, her fear began to grow. Lucius knew of her utter betrayal, but he had also been extremely obsessed with her. She told no one of her fears, but eventually they were confirmed when something happened that changed her world forever.

She was supposed to meet Severus for lunch in Muggle London, at a little bistro she had recommended. He was thirteen minutes late when she caught sight of him, striding purposefully up the sidewalk towards the cafe. He threw some cash down to pay for the coffee she was sipping, and without a word took her arm and began to lead her through the noontime pedestrian traffic. "Where are we going?" she said.

He looked at her, as if for the first time. "You'll see in a moment."

Suddenly, a shot of fear raced into her heart. This was not at all like her normal encounter with Severus Snape. He normally would have a hand at the small of her back, walking slowly and taking time to nibble her ear and touch her gently. He was being rough and nearly dragging her down darker streets. She realized with blind panic that she wasn't sure where they were now. He stopped abruptly and took her down an alley. All at once, he drew his wand and Stunned her.

She woke up later in an expansive villa. Everything was extremely attractive in the airy room, including the man who now sat at her side, tenderly stroking her hair. "Wake up, little one," he said soothingly. "It's time we had a little chat, you and I. What better way to get you here than send your dear Severus to fetch you?"

She bolted up, ignoring her headache and edging away from the handsome but cruel man who now sat looking amusedly at her. "What have you done with him?"

"She doesn't even ask for her own safety! Such loyalty, my dear, such passion! But, after all, I do know something about that, don't I?"

"You know nothing about me, Lucius. Nothing at all. Let me go. Where is he?" She was afraid, but anger was crowding out the fear quickly.

"Oh, on the contrary, I know more about you than you realize. You forget that we are lovers, young Hermione, and I am not quite ready to let you go for someone so inferior. Snape? Oh, gods my lady," he said with phony amusement, "you can do so much better." He touched her cheek, and she flinched.

"Where is he?"

"He is me, darling. Polyjuice. I've heard you're familiar with it? Though for someone of your talents, I am sure it seems rather crude." Lucius laughed. "It was the only way to get you to come quietly, since you're so besotted with the freak. I needed to talk with you."

"Lucius," she said with forced patience, "you tried to kill me. I think our relationship is well over at this point, don't you?"

"Those were the old days," he said as if to dismiss the fact that he was wanted for attempted murder, "I made a childish mistake in my anger. It's all forgotten, you know."

"Not by me, it certainly isn't."

"Come, come, Hermione. It's good that we have truth between us now. I admit that you were more beautiful as that whore you used to be, but you have a certain charm just as yourself. And I intend to keep you for myself, my dear. Now that Narcissa is locked up...well, she was a bitch that isn't worth my trouble, at any rate. She never had what you hold for me. I need you. There, you made me say it. We had something, you and I. A spark. I felt your passion every time we were together...don't lie and say it wasn't there."

"Of course there was passion, Lucius. I hated you so intensely. It was either let it out in that way and keep you on the string, or kill you. I chose to keep you alive because I needed information, but I can see now I made the wrong choice." 

"Well," he smirked, "you can see in my son's relationship with Harry Potter that there is a very thin line indeed between hatred and passion. Very thin. I won't share you, Hermione. End it with that bastard Snape now, and he can live. Otherwise, you'll have another death on your conscience, and you'll still be mine. Either way, I assure you I don't care about the traitor. We were like brothers, once, but for the love of a woman. I want you, and therefore he cannot have you."

Her carefully constructed facade ripped in half at his threat. She would do anything, anything at all to protect Severus Snape. But she had to tell him what was happening...see if they could work it to their advantage...

"Go to sleep," Lucius was saying, "I'll let you go in the morning. Sleep now." She couldn't seem to do anything but obey him as she fell into a deep slumber.

The next day, she awoke to find herself in her own bed in Hogsmeade with someone pounding on the door. Confused, she stumbled out of bed and to the door to open it. A very angry-looking Severus Snape stood there. "May I come in?"

"Of course," she said, and then the events of the previous day came flooding back. "Oh, Severus, it was awful..."

"Where have you been?" he said without preamble. 

"Lucius..."

"So, it's true." He looked at her, unsmiling. "He owled me the details of your tryst last night. Damn it, Hermione, how could you?"

"Wait...it's not like that..."

"What is it like, then? You slept with Lucius Malfoy last night. I've heard of people falling for their captors before in warfare, but this is ridiculous. I...believed..."

"Believed what?" She was becoming frustrated with the fact that he wouldn't let her explain.

"Believed that you and I were...soulmates...some such nonsense. I can see now that I was mistaken."

"Oh really?" she sneered. "You see that so well, do you? Well enough to find out the facts before you go off on me about this?"

"He showed me proof. It wasn't enough for you to sleep with this former Death Eater, then, you had to up the ante for Public Enemy number one. I suppose you missed his tender ministrations." He was mocking her, daring her to counter.

"That's low, even for you. What proof?"

Snape produced a photo of her lying in bed next to Lucius, obviously taken while she was asleep. "I recieved this along with a note in my morning mail."

"I was asleep in that photo, Severus. I was kidnapped, for God's sake, if you'll just let me fucking well talk."

His jaw dropped. "You were...he...ludicrous." 

"He impersonated you with Polyjuice and met me for our lunch date, and then took me away to explain to me that I could no longer be with you and that I belong to him now. Satisfied? I guess if we go by his rules, you should leave now, you stupid git."

"What is he playing at?" Severus said incredulously.

"I don't know, but he's threatened to kill you if I don't break it off."

"Let him try it," Severus muttered, taking her into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Hermione, how could I have doubted you?"

"Nice testosterone. Really. I'm flattered."

"It is hot in here, or are you just the most beautiful woman I've ever seen?"

"You're cracked, my love. I'm cold, to be quite honest, but I think you might have the means to warm me?"

~*~*~

Jolted out of her remembrances by the chiming of the mantle clock, she realized she needed to Apparate now to get to the summer manse on time. In minutes, she was walking into the Malfoy's ancestral cottage, where she was greeted by Lucius in a most civilized fashion. "You're right on time, my dear. I have a lovely bottle of wine chilling in the parlour; shall we adjourn there?"

Angry sarcasm began to well up in her throat, but she willed herself to remain the polite lady. "Excellent, Lucius. Lead the way." A few moments later, the very unlikely pair were curled up in expensive antique chairs, drinking a quite acceptable merlot and looking frankly at one another. "Why am I here?" she said. "Why have I been summoned now? I have done everything in our bargain and more, but I don't remember agreeing to visit you here."

"I missed your company. Is that so surprising?"

"I can hardly believe you are here at all, Lucius. Surely this place is well-known and watched?"

"No, actually not," he said, inching closer to her and running a long finger down her arm, creating a shiver that was not due to pleasure in the least. "Only members of the Malfoy clan are likely to know where this is. With all the muddle-headed idiots and Mudbloods in the Ministry these days, I'm not worried in the slightest."

"Why am I here?" she asked again.

"Anxious, are you, my pet? Well, it's a little thing, really. I just wanted you to celebrate with me."

"Celebrate...what?"

"My divorce is final today. I could think of no one I'd rather share that with than you, my dear." Lucius leered in her direction suggestively.

"Lucky Narcissa. How did you find a solicitor and a judge unscrupulous enough to divorce you without turning you in to the Ministry?"

"No, my dear, lucky me. And you. This leaves us free to spend our time together without all those nasty legal ramifications. Oddly enough, I began proceedings shortly after I met you; Narcissa could have taken my estate if I'd been discovered, and I wasn't about to let my lover go, so it was the appropriate choice under the circumstances."

"Lucius," she sighed, "why do you care? What possible difference does it make? She's in Azkaban, as you'll be someday, and I'm not the woman you thought I was. I was using you, don't you recall? I was never your lover, I was your whore."

"You seem so sure, darling. But if I go to Azkaban, you'll lose both me and him; I'd think you'd make sure I stayed in one piece and kept me a very, very happy and well-protected man." The chill crept into her bones as he reminded her of the horrible deal she had to make to keep Severus safe. She felt so cold...

"Let's have dinner, Hermione, and then I think tonight I'll sample your pleasures again. Just because I can." Lucius's eyes never left hers as he extended a hand.

~*~*~

_Dear Miss Weasley,_

_Your theory about post-traumatic stress is intriguing. I confess that in shutting out the pain of losing her, I have refused to look too closely at the psychology of the event; chalk it up to a man in love's weakness. In this I have been quite remiss. As you are undoubtedly aware, she had reason to be shaken to her core by the events that she participated in, but what you may not know is that Lucius Malfoy kidnapped her recently. At the time, it seemed to only serve as a warning to scare her and myself; but I begin to wonder if there was not more to it._

_I've been foolish and stubborn, Miss Weasley, in not examining her rejection of me. I assumed it was without guile, but perhaps there is a more sinister reason why a seemingly happy woman would fall to pieces and push away everyone who cares about her. I will join with you in attempting to help her if she will allow it. Come to Hogwarts today; I know that Minerva and Albus would love to see you and Harry...and Draco as well. Please come down to the dungeons...it tends to be the coolest part of the castle and I rarely venture out of it these days._

_Yours,_

_S.S._

"Thank God, he's on board," Ginny said out loud to no one in particular. Scribbling a couple of notes and attaching them to Pig for Draco and Harry and to Hermione's owl for Snape, she left the Burrow to head for a strategy session at Hogwarts.

~*~*~

Hermione lay on her side wrapped tightly in the forest green goose-down duvet that adorned Lucius Malfoy's bed. She could hear his even breathing behind her. Finally, he had fallen asleep, and her thoughts could be her own. She turned, raising on one elbow to look at his sleeping form in the moonlight.

Lucius Malfoy, though old enough to be her father, was probably the most attractive man she had ever known. If you went for the cold, patrician good looks of wealth and old family, that is. His hair was long and silver. His eyes were of the deepest blue, and his body was incredible for a man in his mid-forties, no doubt about that. How had a man like this, with so much, become so horrible? Was it the power he had craved, or had he been a bad person all along? She mused that Draco had been just as much of a prick, and with the help of Harry Potter had become an extremely decent person. 

Before he had fallen asleep, he had murmured a lot of things to her that had made her re-think her position with him. She was icier cold than she'd ever been on the inside, to be sure; being forced to sleep with your enemy when your soul was longing for another man would do that to you. But, if he were to be believed (and since she knew that sex with her tended to be a little like Veritaserum to a man when done as she'd done it tonight, perhaps he should be), his bargain with her was not simply to torture her and Severus and exact some revenge. She had never believed for an instant that he was actually in love with her...addicted was much more apt a term. But something he had said stuck with her, and upset her more than anything else that had come out of this nightmarish ordeal.

"Hermione," he had mumbled, "you should know that I don't know any other way to be. I don't know how to be a good person. I don't know how to get what I want by simply being myself anymore. I'm so used to bribing, cheating, and blackmailing my way through life. Now I see that my son has broken the Malfoy mold, and for the first time, I am jealous. I want what he has. Does that make sense, Hermione?"

"If this is one of your mind games, Lucius, I'm not interested."

"Fine," he snapped, "I never expected you to understand. I don't know why I'm in confessional mode with you."

"It's okay," she sighed, resigned to her fate. "Keep talking."

"I saw Severus take what I wanted...he's a good person. I saw my Master die, and for the first time, I had stopped believing in him. Certainly, my epiphany was late in coming...I even sent a dementor after you to kill you. That is the old Malfoy, the one I want to shed. I need you to help me, Hermione."

She was angry, mostly because he was pulling her strings. "Then call our deal off, and I will promise you that I will help you. But as long as you are blackmailing me, Lucius, it hardly seems that you are very serious about your new leaf. Forcing me to sleep with you and holding my lover's life over me as ransom really doesn't make me believe in you."

"You little...Mudblood...bitch!" he yelled, slapping her. For a moment, she had been slightly more comfortable...this was the Lucius she knew. The guy professing his need to reform scared the shit out of her.

"Think about my offer," she retorted, turning away. "Good night." But his confession, even if it had been as phony as he was, had unsettled her. Her Gryffindor sensibilities of right and justice and redemption were taking hold of her. Hadn't she been the one to reform Rita Skeeter, using blackmail herself? What about her work in helping Viktor Krum to see the light of day and get away from his Death Eater family?

Who was she to say that the ends didn't justify the means?

Troubled, she closed her eyes, and dreamed of another man...one with loving hands and no ulterior motives. When she awoke the next morning, she was wrapped from head to toe in goose down, but was as cold as the moon.

*~*~*

"Then we're agreed. Lucius Malfoy is doing something to her," Harry was saying to the assembled in the Hogwarts Potions dungeon- Severus, Draco, Ginny, Albus, and Minerva.

"It does fit a certain pattern with him," Draco agreed, "and I think I have an idea what it might be. I heard from a friend that his divorce from my mother is final."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Severus. "Do you think he might have...it pains me to say it..."

"Yes, I think so," Ginny said. "I think he's in love with Hermione."

"Our family must be rolling in their graves," Draco said. "But you've got one thing wrong. My father loves nothing but power and avarice, Ginny. There is no chance he's in love. And besides, she's not in love with him...she hates him. More than once she talked about killing him where he lay...this does not sound like a match made in Heaven. So why did she...er, sorry, Severus..."

He waved his hand. "He must be blackmailing her."

Minerva chewed her thumb. "What could he be holding over her? What could be so awful that she is voluntarily shutting out her friends and Severus?"

Albus looked down at his beard, and then back at Severus. "You said he used Polyjuice to impersonate you, correct? So he must have some piece of you, a hair or a thumbnail or something?"

"Yes, Headmaster, but..." Suddenly, a horrible realization dawned on Severus. "You don't think..."

"I do," Albus said, "I believe he must hold your life in his hands, and that is why she has left us. Nothing more could have torn her away from you...we all saw how in love you both were. I think he must have found a way to complete the Elixir of Ice and Fire."

"I don't understand," Harry said. "What is the Elixir of Ice and Fire?"

Snape strode over to a bookshelf and selected a very decrepit text, turning feverishly through the pages. "It's not a commonly spoken of potion, Potter. The creator intended it to be a dark potion that would bind your enemies together with the elements, in this case fire and ice. After brewing the potion, it would remain in a cauldron and must be tended to once a day by the person who brewed it, or the two who had become bound would die - one in fire, one in ice. Also, if those two who were bound together ever saw each other or even thought of one another, they would grow hot and cold respectively. Oh, dear Merlin, Albus, this explains everything."

"Keep talking..." Ginny said, intrigued.

"The potion was never finished...the wizard who created the potion was killed during the final stages of his research. You might know him...Salazar Slytherin. At any rate, the potion was near completion but no one has ever picked up the research to work on it to my knowledge. I have every reason to believe this is it, though...it requires a little bit of each of the two you wish to bind together. We know he had something of mine since he was able to create Polyjuice, and he kidnapped her so it would have been nothing to take a lock of her hair. There is no need to actually touch the person with the potion itself; its existence in a cauldron alone ensures that Hermione and I are bound and Lucius is our keeper. This explains why I have been so hot - Poppy tried everything to diagnose the fever, but came up short. No doubt Hermione has been freezing to death, unless she has managed..." his voice broke.

"Severus," Draco said softly, "there is no chance she's not thinking about you. She loves you."

"Oh, the hurtful things she said... you cannot imagine... Lucius must have explained to her that if she came near me again, I would die, so she said things to ensure that I would not seek her out. And of course, this protects him...as long as the potion is there, she cannot kill him or let him be taken to Azkaban, because he alone can tend the potion and keep us both alive. Why didn't she tell me? I could have shared this with her." The bleak look on his former Potions Master's face nearly made Harry want to hug him, which is saying something extraordinary indeed.

"We'll get her out to the Three Broomsticks again," Draco said. "Talk to her. Get her to see that we only want to help."

"She'll need her friends, certainly," Albus said, "but we must find a way to release her - and Severus - from this prison and make your father pay for this and all of his other crimes."

"No," Severus found himself saying.

Everyone turned toward him, mouths opening in protest. He waved his hands in front of him. "I know Hermione. She may have come up with a plan quite on her own. I think that Draco and Harry, and you too Ginny, should meet her at the Three Broomsticks and explain that you know the situation and ask her what she needs from us in support. And tell her..." his voice broke again, "tell her I miss her."

*~*~*

Hermione was seated at the mirror in her apartment. George Weasley was sitting next to her, his hand on her arm as he waved his wand over her. 

"Jesus Mary and Joseph, Hermione. Your core body temperature is 34 C now. I really think you need to see a healer."

"George, I appreciate your concern, I do. I just need to work on my mental exercises and keep my brain focused on other things but my tangled love life. And thanks for bringing up the candy...it is safe, right? I can eat it without my nose turning warty or my fingers falling off?"

"Would I do that to you? It's from Honeydukes, not our shop," he laughed. "I have to run back downstairs. Thanks for the rent money, but let's see each other a little before next month, all right?" As he opened the door, he saw his sister ready to knock. "Gin!" he swooped her up in a hug. "What brings you by? I have a new little prankie Fred dreamed up downstairs...wanna be our tester?"

"Not bloody likely," she laughed, "I'm here for Hermione. But I'll be down in a minute, okay?" He let her down, and nodded to both women seriously before bursting into giggles and bounding down the stairs.

"He'll never grow up," Ginny said.

"I like him that way. What brings you by?" Hermione said as lightly as possible.

"Hermione Granger! Your lips are totally blue! What is...nevermind. I won't pry. You're a Metamorphmagus, can't you do something about those blue lips?"

"Actually, no," she said seriously, "my powers seem to be waning. I can only manage one transformation a day now, if that."

"Aren't you worried?" Ginny said with alarm. If it were possible, her friend looked ten times worse than the previous day.

"I don't care, honestly. What can I do for you?"

"Come out for a drink with me. That's all, I swear, just a drink...no prying."

Hermione looked at her watch. "I guess I have an hour to kill. Let me just get my sweater and cloak."

"Hermione," Ginny said, "It's July."

"Don't pry."

"I won't."

The two of them walked down the sunny, hot street to the Three Broomsticks. Ginny directed her friend to a back table. Hermione ordered a hot butterbeer, and Ginny went for an ice cold glass of Pinot Grigio.

Very shortly, as Ginny was distracting Hermione with tales of the bizarre guy that sat across from her in Abnormal Psychology, two familiar shadows fell across their table. "May we?" Harry said.

Hermione shook her head. "I smell a setup. Okay, okay, sit down. Want me to get us free drinks?"

They all laughed, and then Draco said, "Not today. I'd rather not attract too much attention. I just am passing on a message."

Fear shot into Hermione's heart. Had she been discovered? If anyone would figure it out, it would be Lucius's son, after all. "A message from whom?"

"From those of us who love you," Harry said, "We know about the Elixir of Ice and Fire."

Hermione's eyes shuttered as she shivered involuntarily. "Don't get involved in things you cannot possibly understand."

"Stop it," Ginny said. "We're entitled to get involved by virtue of the fact that we care deeply for you, Hermione. Don't shut us out. What can we do to help? We know the specifics. And you'll not be pleased to know that Severus is nearly suffering from heatstroke because he loves you so much. He said to tell you that he misses you."

"The bastard," she said, clearly not really meaning it. "If you know about the Elixir, then you know he needs to forget I ever existed. Tell him to stay away, all right? I won't be responsible for his death. I'll do what I have to do."

"Hermione," Harry said, "there just has to be a way to defeat this. We're all concerned about you...you're not yourself."

"Of course not!" she said, both warmed by their attention and angry that it had to come to this. "Draco, you know your father better than anyone. You know what it's like to be unable to break free." He nodded, grasping her hand in his reassuringly, then attempting to prevent himself from pulling away when he felt how cold she had truly become. "Then you know the dilemma. I cannot let Severus die. I love him too much. And further..." she paused.

"Yes?" Draco said. "Don't tell me that you've developed a soft spot for Daddy Dearest."

"I...can't honestly answer that. He tells me he wants to change. I'm working on it. Just...trust me, and don't give up on me, and tell that bat Severus to stay as far away from me as possible. Okay?" She looked nervously at her watch, and excused herself for the loo. She never returned.

~*~*~

_Dear Severus,_

_You were right. We need to simply trust her. But I'm so worried about her...she is so sick. George said she is on the edge of death physically according to the readings he took this afternoon, and Fred let me know that she hasn't been eating anything he brings to her for dinner. He's the best chef in Hogsmeade, so that is concerning in itself._

_She seems to have a plan regarding Lucius, but again, I'm concerned. She seems to think he can be redeemed. What can we do for her?_

_Ginny_

He pondered for a moment, and got out of the freezing bath he had drawn to clear his mind.

_Dear Miss Weasley,_

_I am burning to death and cannot stop it now. I always said she'd be the death of me, but I never believed it would be true. Lucius redeemed? She is barking mad, and we'll both die because of it. _

_If she lives, Miss Weasley, tell her I love her. I won't be around to do so._

_S.S._

~*~*~

"Lucius?" her voice rang out over the expanse of the summer home.

"My dear heart! What brings you here? We're not due a meeting until tomorrow," Lucius said, walking down the stairs into the parlor where she stood, shivering. He felt an unfamiliar emotion rising up in his chest upon seeing her. At first he didn't recognize it, but it appeared to be...genuine concern.

"If you care about me at all, as you claim you do, you will release me from this curse. I am prepared to die otherwise. I cannot live with such a coldness in my soul...I am no use to you or anyone now." She was disheveled, her eyes had dulled, and she was shaking under the three layers of clothing she wore.

"Oh, my dear," Lucius said, "I would have thought...you'd stop thinking about him by now. That's all that's required to cure you, of course." He grabbed her by the shoulders, but recoiled at the ice emanating from her through the cloak. "My God, Hermione, my God..."

"What's required, Lucius, is that you destroy that bloody potion and let me go." She sank to her knees, very near death.

Lucius pondered the situation; if he destroyed the potion, his captive mistress would be free to rush back to Snape. Malfoy would lose. However, she was simply dreadful on his floor - he could see and feel the coldness, and in their last encounter he certainly felt the ice in her body though he was unwilling to admit it to himself. Slytherin's potion might have worked for a man and woman who weren't as obviously devoted as Hermione was to Severus Snape. Such a terrible dilemma - she would clearly die without his intervention, yet he didn't want her to go back to Snape and leave him. He didn't want to lose.

"You wanted to be a better man," she hissed. "Let me go and I swear to you on my Gryffindor bloody honor that I will not abandon you to the wolves. If you are really serious about improving yourself, I will help you. Damn me for being this way, but I actually have started to care about whether you are bloody well redeemed or not...I see something there that no one else could, and yes, I want to see this through even though you have put me through the worst kind of hell, Lucius. But let me live to do so. I fully admit to you that I will never love you...that my love belongs to Severus, but that I can still be there for you and help you discover your life if you simply trust me to do so. My life...his life...are in your hands."

At that very moment, Severus was curled naked on the floor in the coolest part of the dungeons, burning with a horrid fever that would have killed any other man. He'd wrapped himself like a mummy in ice water-drenched sheets, and kept waving his wand to mutter cooling charms that did very little in the way of relief. He was unable to stop thinking about her, so weak...he thought he might slip into a coma at any minute for his weakness. He was so in love that he would die, literally.

As he slipped from consciousness for what he presumed was the final time, his mind fixed on her. "I love you, Hermione Granger," he said with finality. He knew he would never see her again.

At the same time, hundreds of miles away, Hermione Granger slipped into a coma that she too believed she could never wake from. It was over. "I love you, Severus Snape," she thought to herself as she slipped away in Lucius Malfoy's arms.

It wasn't purely altruism that motivated Malfoy; he was yet unable to tap into that quality in himself after so many years of hate and self-deception. But seeing the woman he had convinced himself that he both loved and despised lying on the floor, close to death, did something to him. He knew she was not deceiving him...that she really had a desire to help him, after all he had done to hurt her. He had to admit now that he really did, deep down, want her to live - even though he knew fully well that she would never be his. It would be so easy to let her die, to say to himself that the bitch deserved it for not submitting to the will of he, the arrogant and proud Lucius Malfoy. Three months ago, he would have easily let this be her fate. But something within Lucius really understood that the times had changed, and that he needed to change with them if he deserved the friendship this Muggle-born woman had showed against the odds. For the first time in his entire miserable life, he was frightened for another person's well-being - which had been compromised severely by his own hand. He rushed to his secret store-room, looked at the potion bubbling in a dark corner, and made a decision. He grabbed his wand and vanished the entire cauldron, praying to whatever deity would listen to such a foolish man that it would be enough to save her.

~*~*~

Lucius Malfoy sat stiff-backed in the chair afforded him in the Ministry courtroom. "How do you plead, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Guilty," Lucius said. "I have done everything you've mentioned and quite a bit more, to be frank. I expect a long sentence in Azkaban, and to never see the people I have hurt again."

"Is there anyone to speak on this man's behalf before the sentencing?" the very familiar judge said.

"I will, Lord Dumbledore," a confident female voice said. "Hermione Granger."

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, looking down his nose over his glasses at her, "Several of his crimes involve yourself. What could you possibly wish to say to defend this man?"

"I cannot defend his actions; I simply want to ask the court for leniency. You see, this man has repented for his crimes, and deserves to spend his remaining years in the company of those who wish to see him do well, not in Azkaban with his ex-wife and old acquaintances who will only seek to draw him back in to their despair and hatred. I will personally vouch for his character. He was a very bad man under the influence of Voldemort, but many like him were similarly compromised that now are out after their light sentences. I ask for the same leniency for this man. I ask that the crimes against myself, Harry Potter, and Severus Snape be dropped from consideration." A murmur rose through the court. Most of the crimes Lucius had been accused of had been of those three categories.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, "this is extraordinary. This man tried to kill you twice."

"No," she said, "only once. The second time...he was struggling with his demons, I believe he has learned to let go of his hate and anger against us in the experience. Besides," she said, "it would be too easy for him to go off to Azkaban and never be forced to face those who want to help him, to make this man whole. I believe he can be an asset to our society. I simply want a chance to help him prove it."

"All right, Miss Granger," the kindly old judge said, "I'll remand him to your custody. You may do as you see fit with him, but if he does not comply, return to the Court and we will sentence him to a term in Azkaban. Dismissed."

Hermione shot a look of triumph in Draco's direction, but he shook his head slowly and nodded towards Severus Snape. The warmth she had briefly been enveloped in upon the courtroom victory evaporated before his frigid glare. Before she could meet his eyes fully, he turned and stalked out of the courtroom. She wondered if she had gone too far this day. 

_If you like this story, read the prequel: "Soul on Ice" and the sequel: "Soul Blue and Black". Just follow my author link above._


End file.
